Daughter
by bobbingformangos
Summary: Season 2. Cricket Game. Up until Emma and Regina talk outside Grannys - everything else didn't happen. So, yeah, bring some tissues.


Silence

* * *

Cause we both know I'll never be your lover  
I only bring the heat

So, please just blow out all the candles,  
blow out all the candles  
"You're too old to be so shy,"  
he says to me so I stay the night  
It's just a young heart confusing my mind

* * *

She knew that they would never be lovers.

There were many reasons why they would not but mostly because she was Regina Mills and she never got her happy ending.

But she was comfortable with this arrangement.

It was better than being alone wanting people who don't want her.

At least, she could have one every so often.

It was right, right?

Better this way?

Regina has been reduced to a fraction of who she had once been.

She had ruled many and feared by most – she had had power over an entire kingdom much the same way she had all the power over this entire town but Regina knew the truth now. Perhaps, she's always known the truth.

She's never had power.

Only the illusion of it.

"Really, Madame Mayor? I never pictured you as someone who's shy," Emma Swan had whispered the first time they fumbled into the mansion, lips attacking each other in desperate need a week after that godforsaken community dinner that left the mayor depressed and utterly alone.

How they had gotten to the point where her hand was on the small of Emma Swan's back and Regina knew that the dip in the body was perfect for her lithe hand – well she had no idea how it progressed to this.

She didn't dismiss it nor did she back down to the taunts whispered into her ear by Emma's rough voice.

Though, one lifetime, Regina had been shy.

She had fell in love with a boy she only kissed a handful of times and who brought light into the dark world created by a mother without a heart. She had loved that boy but was it true? Sometimes, when she's too far gone after drinking enough of her cider – she asks herself that.

She had such a young heart back then – and sadly, she still had one. It was so blinded so very easily.

The taunt made her lead the blonde up the massive stairs to the master bedroom. Clothes were left in their wake as they fell into the bed together – a mess of limbs tangling, slick heats sliding against hot skin, and mouths unable to pull apart.

Their first time together was teeth and fingers and anger.

They were two people with voids as huge as the unobserved universe trying to get the other person to fill them.

How can you fill a void when you, yourself, are a person filled with voids?

But someway, Emma Swan was able to patch over Regina's voids as if they were makeshift potholes in roads only needing a patching.

And for some reason, Emma sought her out to fill the huge void that she had in her body.

Regina has never experienced an orgasm as intense as she had with Emma.

Graham was no comparison – something she could expect in her monotonous life that assured her no pregnancy would occur.

The curse prevented it.

Graham was sterile, at least.

It wasn't like Regina was a stranger to pregnancy.

She lost five children with the king – all within the fifth month.

She didn't even think about it anymore.

About their bodies being cremated and now situated in her mausoleum.

What matters is that Emma filled that void when her fingers slide between Regina's slide folds.

Like she did now, a few weeks later, screwdrivering them deep inside Regina before quickly pulling out for the dark haired woman to deal with her wet pussy.

Regina moaned, reaching for Emma to continue as she noticed the smirk on Emma's face.

"Don't play with me Emma," Regina warned, her orgasm so very close.

Emma petted her wet folds, fingers circling the entrance of her wet pussy but didn't dare go in anymore. She smirked, "Madame Mayor…"

Regina cut her off – inebriated in her frustrations – "I'm fucking Regina now."

It said a lot to herself.

It said a lot to Emma.

And it said a lot to the universe.

"What do you want, Regina?"

Emma would do anything in the darkness of her room, Regina found. Regina could beg and tell her to make her cum – she would. Last week Regina told her to chain her up and Emma did, resulting to one of the best orgasms she had ever had.

But now, it wasn't that simple.

Things can't change – Regina can't take back the curse she had caused the blonde and she is finding that she fills the void perfectly which scares her.

But she doesn't stop what they are doing.

Instead, she accepts that she is the company that Emma needed and that Emma was the space that she needed and that they are filling whatever voids were present to the world at that time.

"Don't be shy," Emma whispers as she trails her lips along Regina's neck as she nibbles and kisses – much too intimate for the former Queen but instead Regina accepts it and accepts the gentleness that follows with each touch Emma smooth's onto her skin.

As she comes, Regina can't help but think about how today was her birthday.

* * *

Still

**But we're still sleeping like we're lovers**  
Still with feet touching  
Still with eyes meeting  
Still our hands match  
Still with hearts beating

* * *

It was easy for them to fall into each other - to dive head first into the other's body but still too scared to swim through the other's heart.

It was okay, there was still passion between the two women.

That was enough, right?

Emma stayed over more, Regina woke up with her arms wrapped around the blonde, and voids were filled to the point that it was almost easy to overlook them.

Weeks turned to a few months, and soon, their affair was becoming hard to hide.

Or they possibly didn't want to hide it anyone.

Angry glances turned to soft caresses and dinners in the diner with their son turned into dates at Tony's with feet bumping into each other, and by the time Snow found out that her daughter was engaging in a relationship with the former evil queen, the two women were already rolling too quickly down a steep hill.

They should have talked about this.

They should have expressed their feelings in words the other person could understand.

It happened too fast with no explanation - just two women falling into roles.

But Emma spoke in a language that Regina wasn't familiar with and Regina did things that Emma didn't understand and there were moments that getting lost in translation was all too easy for the women.

There were fights about small things - glasses left in the sink, Emma coming over too late, Regina being too uptight - that resulted into fights about bigger things.

Emma's ability to run from things.

Regina's dark history.

Parents who didn't love their children enough.

Parents who loved their children too much.

This.

Lots of fights about this.

But yet, they still didn't talk about it.

Only if they talked about it.

It wasn't all bad. Not at all.

Nights were spent tangled in each other's arms. Sometimes, when Regina couldn't sleep, Emma would hum to her while playing with the hair at the base of her neck. Regina, never been soothed, found herself relax in Emma's arms and grow accustomed to having her there.

She would have never thought she would become addicted to reaching out in her bed only to have another take her hand and pull her to them.

Emma did that.

A lot.

Both women clinging to each other because nothing else in the past let them cling.

Regina learned that Emma needed to be close, especially when they slept. She learned that Emma enjoyed having her fingers deep and curled within her, Emma's pussy squeezing around them, when they fell asleep.

It felt right.

* * *

When people don't talk, things begin to happen.

The world that they constructed with glue and rubber bands gets unsteady.

It's easier to fight about things.

It's easier to pull away.

But pulling away is better than running, Regina thought to herself on her way home one night. They never said what they were, they just did, and that could mean that it would be very easy to mistaken what kind of relationship that they had.

But it was something.

They were bodies pressed together, hearts beating, sleeping together like any other loves.

It was still something.

The outside world still didn't understand the magnitude of their relationship (neither did they) but once it started to unravel, onlookers started to realize that these two women were much deeper than they had thought.

Emma didn't consider it - love.

Neither did Regina.

Maybe that is where they went wrong.

Caresses turned back into nails digging into skin and gentle whisperings into each others ears turned back into hateful insults.

It lasted six months and most of that a certain type of bliss for two people who never got a happy ending.

It was even blissful for Henry - both of his mothers happy and not fighting - though, even the hopeful optimist, he didn't understand their relationship either.

Mouths would kiss necks while teeth scraped against throats and hands dug into old wounds that didn't heal over correctly.

Emma sat on the bed when she got home, head in her hands as she sobbed quietly.

Regina had never seen the woman cry like that, never seen that type of emotion from her.

They should have talked, before now.

"Emma?" Regina whispered, pulling off her heels but not going near the girl.

Emma looked up at her, tears in her eyes. "I did something, Regina."

They really should have talked about it.

Regina smoothed down her dress with her hands, not realizing just how scared she was of that even tone that Emma used. How could some talk so evenly when they were still crying?

"Tell me, dear," Regina said, her arms came up to wrap around herself.

That's what she did - protect herself.

Except Emma has seen her without protection and she caressed her hair and she hummed her to sleep but yet, Regina felt that her world will be shattered soon and it felt weird to the dark haired woman that she didn't want it to.

Did she truly feel that way towards Emma?

The way that she thought she never could have?

"I didn't mean to," Emma's voice lowered and she stayed on the bed, hands moving up and down on her thighs as if she were kneading dough.

"What didn't you mean to do?" Regina asked, reply short and a hint of frustration in her voice.

There were tears on Emma's cheeks again and it made Regina feel uncomfortable. Not because Emma wasn't the type of person to cry, but Regina didn't want to see her cry, to see her unhappy.

"I was drunk," Emma said, looking down to the carpet and noticing how Regina wiggled her toes as she dug them nervously into the plush material. "Confused, even. It only happened once and it won't ever again but I…"

Regina's heart stopped, beating forgotten as she listen to Emma.

They had built something that neither women realized was there.

So how could they realize it was being shattered?

Regina understood the confession all too quickly as she sucked in air.

A queen doesn't cry.

A queen doesn't show weakness.

But Regina hasn't been a queen for a long time and she felt fucking wounded.

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter. Regina, I want **you**."

But doesn't it matter? Regina wanted to ask.

But no one told her that she wanted her before either.

And she was caught in the river like a fish swimming the wrong way.

Except Regina was stubborn. "Who?"

"Regina," Emma begged.

Regina's hands curled into fists. She took deep breathes. She attempted to not set fire on anything.

She nearly was going to set fire to the reading chair by the window when the words were whispered, "I'm pregnant."

They should have talked.

Regina understands that now.

Understands the confusion and the stress from it.

But they were sleeping like lovers and it was understable that Regina curled into the warmth of that relationship and refused to ask questions. Their hands matched and hearts beat together and it was ever so easy to believe that they could live each day without talking.

But the understanding slowly left Regina in that moment.

Unable to truly process what was happening.

They should have talked.

Regina said the only thing that she could understand, "But you want **me**?"

* * *

Landfill

* * *

Throw me in the landfill  
Don't think about the consequences  
Throw me in the dirt pit  
Don't think about the choices that you make  
Throw me in the water  
Don't think about the splash I will create  
Leave me at the altar  
Knowing all the things you just escaped

Well this is torturous  
Electricity between both of us  
And this is dangerous  
'cause I want you so much  
But I hate your guts  
I want you so much  
But I hate your guts

* * *

Regina got smaller during these months while Emma's abdomen grew bigger. There was a quiet excitement within the town that was silently being consumed by the lack of talking on everyone's part.

Why talk when it is just as easy to continue throughout the days.

Regina got possessive (as she does with important people) while Emma became clingy and both women wove thread around each other in hopes that it would keep their relationship from unraveling.

But that's the thing with thread, isn't it?

It unravels so easily.

The first sign of unraveling was when the small family went to Grannys for brunch.

Snow avoided them when they were together (now six months pregnant herself, selfish reasons most likely) - unable to acknowledge the relationship her daughter had with Regina. In her mind, it was only for Henry.

Most people thought that, what they did was only for Henry.

Except, he wasn't really thought of as much as he should have been when it came to their relationship.

Henry and Regina sat across from Emma at the dinner, food quietly being eaten when August came into the building.

Regina should have known that there was something odd about the man leaving a few months ago.

But she did notice the way Emma froze and hid her face in her food, not wanting to talk with him.

One moment lead to another and he noticed when he walked over to greet the family.

For someone made out of wood, its funny how he could produce a kid.

That thought alone made Regina feel uncomfortable.

He started to speak, Emma tried to ignore, and Regina stood up to ask him to leave **her** family alone.

"Her family, Emma?" He asked.

Emma looked up and Regina swore that she saw something scary in Emma's eyes. Something like things she shouldn't think of or even attempt to believe - but she saw it. She shouldn't even doubt it.

"Yes," Emma said, louder than she needed but possibly this was what was needed. Everyone to hear, mostly Regina. "Her family."

It could have been hormones but Emma pushed past August to grab Regina's hand and Henry's arm and pulled them out of the diner towards their home.

Their.

At some point it became theirs.

Emma profession that she was apart of Regina's family should have strengthened the threads tying them together, but it didn't have that effect. Instead, the blonde ended up in bed for another month crying to herself and refusing physical touch.

They should have talked but it was easier not to, right?

Emma was scared.

She was confused.

And she wanted to claw her heart out of her chest because she simply didn't understand it.

She didn't want to run away, not anymore, despite every fucking cell in her body telling her to - so instead she curled into a ball and willed herself to disappear.

Henry watched from the sidelines as both of his mothers disappeared.

* * *

The second sign of unraveling was when Snow had her daughter.

All dark hair and toothless smile and bright eyes that held wonder and the world.

In her post birth exhaustion, Snow proudly named her Evie and exclaimed that she was the most precious princess that she had ever set eyes on.

Eight months pregnant, emotional, and consumed with so much feelings that she had never (and will not) deal with, Emma frowned at her mother and promptly left the room.

Henry told Regina and Regina made sure that the Charmings understood exactly what they had done to their daughter.

The abandonment.

The replacement.

And finally, in that moment, someone talked.

But it wasn't Emma and she was sinking.

Regina took Henry home. The young boy, nearly a teenager running up to his room as Regina whispered a quick goodnight. She walked through the nursery that had once been Henry's, still painted plum purple, to get to their bedroom. She walked through it a lot now, feeling the child's magic work in her heart.

Regina swore it whispered to her.

Regina found Emma in their bed - curled up on her side. Her belly round, tank top rolled up over it, exposing her skin in the moonlight.

"Can I hold you?" Regina asked softly.

Talking to the Charmings seemed to open something inside her - a floodgate.

She walked closer, hands fidgeting because that is what Regina did when she was nervous, moved her hands.

She got a little bolder, "I'm realizing something, Emma. I'm realizing things that I should have realized months ago."

Emma stayed silent but Regina could see her looking at her in the darkness.

"I once told Henry that I didn't know how to love well," she whispered, stepping closer. "It's true, I don't. But I'm learning. And I'm realizing that I…"

Emma put a hand up, "Don't say it, Regina."

Regina furrowed her eyebrows, "Emma,"

Emma shook her head, "Not right now."

The threads were coming undone faster.

Pooling between the two women.

Regina was starting to feel cold and she was realizing that Emma wasn't going to reach for her anymore - pull her closer. Emma's eyes stayed on her, watching her, while her own reflected fear and Regina knew that everything in the woman was telling her to run, run, run.

But she stayed.

And watched.

They were coming undone.

* * *

They name her Anastasia.

Regina suggested it knowing Emma always liking the lore of the lost royal daughter (despite the fact, Regina stated, that the story is finished and she was found).

Anastasia was born in the middle of the night, in the livingroom, during a winter storm.

Granny and Red traveled in the snow, along with Snow, Evie, and David. Henry and David stayed in the back of the room, running back and forth to grab blankets and wood for the fire and ice water for Emma.

Snow had Evie wrapped high on her back so that her hands were free to wipe sweat from Emma's brow and she could whisper reassurances and apologies to her daughter.

"I love you so much," was said in a way that only a mother knew how.

Regina caressed the inside of her thigh as she rubbed her abdomen and watched the baby crown.

She had caught her - and sat her on Emma's chest after she kissed the small infant's forehead.

Emma was distant and exhausted and after the baby nursed, she pushed the little girl into Regina's arms.

That was the moment, the exact moment, that the thread came undone and pooled at their feet before shriveling away.

Regina sat next to Emma, leaning against the couch as she held the little girl against her chest - shirt unbuttoned and letting the infant bask in the warmth of her skin as their hearts synced together.

Regina pressed into Emma's side and sighed once she felt the blonde head drop to her shoulder. Regina needed her, that connection.

Relief.

Emma was just tired, she told herself. She was right here.

And Regina mentally tangled the thread back around them before looking down at the dark haired little girl.

If Regina believed in magic that could make it happen, she would say the little girl looked just like her. Regina seen the paintings, of her being declared in court as an infant and another of her heartless mother holding her against her chest. Anastasia had the small round mouth and button nose and curl of dark hair upon her round head. She reached up a hand for Regina's face that caused the woman to warm up immediately.

Unlike Evie, Anastasia's eyes held the universe.

And hearts.

She held hearts in her little clinched fists.

This was her daughter.

Their daughter.

* * *

Regina and Emma fell asleep in their bed with Anastasia in the middle of them. Henry was sound asleep in his bed, the Charmings in a guest room, while Granny and Red in the living room.

The snow fell outside when Emma got up, kissing both the baby and Regina on the forehead.

She couldn't think about the repercussions of what she was about to do. She couldn't think about what she was doing to Regina and her heart.

They did it all wrong and Emma needed to cut the ties loose.

They fucked up and it needed to be over.

She couldn't handle this.

Handle any of it.

She should have talked.

She should have talked to her parents and her son and Regina.

Except things have been piling up since the night Henry found her in her apartment in Boston and they haven't stopped.

Ignoring the magic, the electricity, pulling her back to Regina. Emma went to the closet, pushing clothes out of the way for the packed duffle bag.

And she left, slipping out of the house in the silence of a winter morning.

Her bug made it through the snow.

All was still.

And she left, without looking back.

Walked away.

Leaving all the things she loved in her tracks.

* * *

Winter Song [Regina Interlude]

* * *

They say that things just cannot grow  
beneath the winter snow,  
or so I have been told.

They say we're buried far,  
just like a distant star  
I simply cannot hold.

This is my winter song.  
December never felt so wrong,  
cause you're not where you belong;  
inside my arms.

* * *

Anastasia's hungry rooting mouth was what woke her up the next morning. The bed was cold, despite the covers wrapped tightly around her waist. Anastasia and started to suck on Regina's wrist that was conveniently near her head.

It was only when nothing came out that the tiny, demanding girl started to wail.

Regina's eyes opened quickly - babies were like bikes, once you had one, you knew exactly what to do.

She smiled at the little girl and then lifted her head to wake Emma.

The bed was empty.

Cold.

December was a bitter, cold and lonely month.

There was snow outside their windows, burying anything that was trying to grow.

Seeing the empty spot, Regina knew right then that Emma was gone.

The morning sun was come up into the room and the baby was wailing with hunger.

And her love gone.

* * *

Regina loathed to wake up Snow.

Not because she wanted to let the mother sleep, but because she hated to ask for help.

There were tears on her cheeks and a baby pressed against the skin of her chest hungry and snow outside the door.

It would take Regina a few days to make the potion for her to produce milk (she had the ingredients but it took a few days to cure).

Charming jumped up first, always the white knight for his family.

But instead of finding an intruder, he found Regina - reduced to tears - clutching his daughter's newborn daughter.

Regina's daughter.

And he immediately soften, quicker than Regina would have thought.

Snow lifted her head, wiping at her eyes, "Regina?"

Her voice was shaky with a reply, "She's gone."

The sound of the parent's sucking in air hurt to hear.

"She's hungry," Regina started, tears flowing more freely and body shaking. "and she's gone. I need..I need.."

She needed Snow's help.

And ever the merciful woman, Snow nodded her head in understanding and reached for the baby.

Regina's hand stayed on Anastasia's foot while she nurse - needing to stay connected to the only part of Emma left.

Henry was always Regina's and the dark haired woman wondered, how long before Anastasia loosed those touches of Emma, too.

* * *

Granny fixes the potion - changing a few herbs for others - causing an almost immediate potion ready for consumption. What would have taken a few days to cure would only take a few hours which meant that Snow only had to nurse two babies a few times instead of for a few days.

The scene is surreal when Regina walks into the livingroom.

There are blankets spread around the flood, over laps, and wrapped around bodies and there is a movie in the television.

Henry is sitting in the middle of the couch with Snow and Evie next to him on one side.

"Mom?" His voice isn't naive or young anymore and it hurts Regina to hear how old he has gone despite only being eleven. He shouldn't have to understand this.

But he does and Regina has to accept it.

She hurts.

She's crying and screaming inside.

They should have talked.

Emma should have known that she was loved.

But she didn't know and Regina didn't say and they both were broken.

But Regina was resilient and she found strength in the way Henry lifted a quilt for her and Anastasia to come and settle in.

So she did.

The baby, now wrapped against her chest, slept peacefully, not noticing a parent had abandoned her this morning.

Instead, the baby knew a mother who refused to stop touching her and a brother who leaned against their mother, cuddling in, resting a hand on his little sister's back.

She knew a grandmother who sustained her and an old woman who helped her mother do the same.

She knew the free laughter of a woman who was free and uninhibited.

And she knew the reassuring voice of a grandfather who adored her just as much as he adored his own infant.

Mostly, she knew of a mother loved so deeply.

Regina finally learned how to love.

* * *

It took her months to learn that.

That she finally knew how to love.

She figured it out when she sat in the Charming's loft, a four month old Anastasia laying on her tummy in front of her reaching for Evie's plump little hand.

Henry was joking with his grandfather while Snow discussed Evie's latest attempt at crawling.

Regina felt free.

Her chest open and wide and heart on displayed.

She's cried in front of these people.

She's broken completely down numerous times over the last months begging for Emma.

And they held her up.

Them.

She nursed her daughter and built a stronger relationship with her son.

And she now had hope.

True, hope.

She didn't hold too tightly anymore.

Instead, she loved.

"I'll be right back," Regina said as she stood up, smiling as Anastasia watched her - ever the attached child, keeping a tight grasp on the only mother who stayed.

Regina stepped out into the hallway, outside the whitewashed door, and pulled out her phone.

It rang.

And rang.

And hope filled her heart as spring began to settle in outside the apartment.

And it went to voicemail.

* * *

"Emma," Regina started, voice tired but hopeful, "I love you. Please come home."

My voice; a beacon in the night.  
My words will be your light,  
to carry you to me.

I'll be your harvester of light  
and send it out tonight  
so we can start again.

* * *

Missing [Emma's Interlude]

* * *

My heart is beating in a different way  
Been gone such a long time

Do you still believe?  
In you and me?  
Are we all we could be?  
Is it meant to be

* * *

"Emma…I love you…please come home."

Winter was not kind to Emma.

Emma let the phone hand in her hand as she took a deep breath. It had been a handful of months (how long has it been? how long?) and she said curled up in the guest bedroom of an old foster mother who had cared enough to let her stay there since the night she came knocking on the door.

She had to fix herself.

She had to fix.

The words played over in her head - increasing in volume each time she mentally repeated them until she could only hear Regina's voice take over her.

Regina shouldn't be the one to beg her to come home.

She didn't deserve it.

She didn't deserve to be loved.

* * *

I don't know how to love very well.

But she did love Emma and Emma just couldn't understand that.

Emma listened to the voice mail for three more days. Sighing into Regina's voice and analyzing the little details about the few seconds.

Emma didn't think about the consequences of her choices when she left.

She thought about the feelings around her throat, choking her, leaving her unable to breathe.

She thought of insecurities and how she wasn't good enough and how she only fucked up her family instead of helped.

She was angry and confused and pissed and she had truly, truly fucked up.

She had drowned and she had to leave before she pulled anyone else down.

What if she had pulled Regina down into the dark water that surrounds her?

Henry?

What if she tainted her baby?

The sweet little girl with universes for eyes.

"Emma…I love you…"

Regina sounded so assured of herself, of her admission.

She was trying to love again.

That mean something, right?

That the Evil Queen could love again?

Maybe she could try again too?

Maybe try to get less broken?

* * *

It takes a long time to unbreak yourself.

It takes tears and sleepless nights and reopening every single wound you have inside yourself and watching it bleed.

Breaking a bone so that it can reheal.

That's what one person told her on her journey.

And she went on a journey.

A really fucked up journey to start healing herself - figure herself out.

She did this for herself.

But she also did it for them.

"Emma…I love you…"

* * *

Spring.

* * *

Summer.

* * *

Fall.

* * *

My heart is beating in a different way  
Been gone such a long time

The streets were lined with a layer of snow and new tires slowly road across the perfect white blanket.

The yellow bug was gone, and Emma would like to think that the insecure, scared girl was too for the most part.

She finally breathed with purpose and her hands clutched the steering wheel of her yellow jeep - safe but practical. Not too bad on gas either.

She ran a gloved hand in her hair, bouncing golden curls coming back to frame her face.

Another breath.

The white house.

There were lights twinkling inside as the sun was rising above the horizon.

The black mercedes sat in the driveway as well as two other cars.

Emma sighed, picking up her phone once more.

She only called once.

There was only one voicemail from Storybrooke, MA.

One voicemail that Emma still played over and over in her days.

"Emma…I love you…come home please."

It took her a while - to get here.

She pocketed the phone and left her bag in the front seat.

She quickly left the car and walked up the sidewalk to the door.

Knocking.

Hands to her side.

Feet rocking back and forth.

Deep breath.

The door open to the eyes of her son, dark brown like his mother's.

Emma smiled, seeing his face and then seeing a toddling little girl walking towards Henry with outstretched arms and unsteady feet.

Before she saw the door slam in her face.

* * *

Winter

* * *

Drifting apart like two sheets of ice, my love  
Frozen hearts growing colder with time  
There's no heat from our mouths  
Please take me back to when I was yours

And we were in flames, I needed I needed you  
To run through my veins, like disease  
And now we are strange, strangers

* * *

"Henry, dear, who was that?" Regina asked, walking into the foyer and leaning down to pick up the toddling infant before she reached the steps and placing a kiss on her messy dark brown curls.

"Just Mrs. Potsworth asking if we needed milk or bread," Henry said, smoothly, before turning to his mother and smiling.

He had grown in the past year, Regina noticed. It was more noticeable than how much he had grown since he was ten. He was nearly as tall as her - head not needing to tilt up to meet her eyes.

She sighed, smiling somewhat contently.

She chuckled at the thought of the older woman, once a teapot, walking around the neighborhood making sure people had milk and bread during a winter storm.

"Oh, well, come back into the living room," Regina started to smirk at her son. "We are able to kick the Charming's butts in charades."

Henry followed after his dark haired mother - looking back toward the door once more before turning and following Regina without a second thought.

Why should he give her a second thought?

Another chance?

Obviously they weren't important to her in this past year.

He wasn't.

His baby sister wasn't.

His mother.

He watched her break twice. Once a week after Emma left and another after she called to ask her to come home.

No word.

Not one.

So, fuck her. Henry thought bitterly. Yeah, he was obviously her son.

* * *

She went to the loft.

She needed to clear her head.

Her knock went unanswered.

* * *

Grannys was closed today.

So was the inn.

* * *

They laughed as Henry tried to get Regina to guess Asgard to no end. His movements animated and hands moving every so often to get her to come on.

Anastasia giggled at her brother from her mother's lap, hair getting smoothed down with soft caresses and chuckles from Regina.

Snow was in a fit of giggles and Charming buried his face in Evie's back to hide his own.

At some point, Red had spit out her cider onto the wooden floor.

Regina had looked around, feeling content.

How had she gotten to this point?

Comforted by those she had once considered enemies.

Another lifetime.

And it did feel that way.

Her body was finally healing.

Her heart being threaded together by the warmth of those around her. A new thread added each day to stitch up the gaping void that Emma had left in her abandonment.

Henry's love for his mother - how he didn't look at her like she was evil anymore.

Anastasia's constant curiosity for the world.

Even Snow offered up a thread in her friendship and commiseration at losing her daughter, yet again.

It finally felt like it was beating normally.

A patchwork of colorful threads.

Her daughter was turning a year.

Another winter storm was expected to take over.

But instead of the cold, frozen hole that was left in Regina's heart last year - this one brought warmth and closure.

And in this year, it finally feels like Regina can let go.

* * *

She parked her car down at the docks and slept, freezing.

* * *

There was a knock on her window early the next morning.

She quickly opened her eyes, jumping at the noise, before shrugging back on her coat and opening her door.

Henry.

He was older.

Taller.

When did that happen?

His arms was crossed and she noticed that his red scarf was wrapped securely around his neck. He wore black snow boots but otherwise, impeccably dressed.

"Why are you here?"

She heard that tone before and it wasn't toward her last time.

This fucking hurt.

And guilt seeped into her heart for many reasons.

Mainly because that tone hurt and she never did anything about it last time.

"Henry, let me explain," her voice soft, patient, pleading.

Henry scowled and Emma wondered at what age did he perfect it? The Regina Mills scowl.

"I needed to get better, Henry," Emma said, rushed.

Henry shook his head.

Emma continued, "How can I be the savior if I was broken?"

He paused for a moment, face nearly falling because he was an observant child and he knew both of his mothers were broken for a very long time, but his scowl returned.

"You could have asked for help," Henry said, bitterly.

Emma frowned, taking a deep breath, before she snarked, "Not much people to ask."

His foot stomped.

He actually stomped his fucking food!

"You could have asked your family!" He said, conviction filling his still boyish voice. "Like mom did!"

Regina.

Emma sighed, cells humming for the woman mentioned.

"She…" Emma began to ask.

"And they helped, they were there for us, they didn't abandon us!" Henry was now screaming and she noticed the tears in his eyes and she realized that he wasn't that much older and he was still a boy and he was a boy who was abandoned by a mother in the middle of the night without a reason why.

She quickly pulled him into her arms.

Holding him close despite him half heartedly pushing her away.

She kissed his head and inhaled him.

* * *

Regina walked down the steps, monitor in hand, from putting Anastasia asleep in their bed.

It's funny how she still saw it as such.

Even though there truly wasn't an them.

At least not said aloud.

But maybe things left unsaid didn't mean they weren't true.

Maybe that was something they did wrong.

Thing that things weren't true.

When Regina got to the bottom of the step she saw her - paused.

Henry stood next to her, eyes red.

Regina connected the dots.

"I'm guessing that you lied, Henry?" Regina asked, tone disapproving only slightly.

He looked up to meet her eyes and nodded.

She smiled softly at her son and walked to him, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. It warmed her that he leaned into her touch. She pulled back but brought a hand to his chin, "Always my white knight. How about you go and start lunch. Stasia will only be down for a bit."

He looked wearily between both of his mothers, knowing the damage that could be done, but he followed his mother's suggestion and headed toward the kitchen.

* * *

They bypassed the study and went into the livingroom.

It was different than how Emma left it.

Homey.

Quilts and crocheted blankets laid on the back of the couch.

Board games still out on the coffee table.

Wooden blocks stacked neatly in the center of the floor and a purple cloth dollie laid near it.

A book resting on the arm of the couch.

"It's been a year, Emma," Regina said.

She sounded tired.

Emma looked up to meet her eyes and she looked exhausted.

Did Emma finally realize the consequences of her actions?

"It has, Regina," Emma said softly, noticing the way that Regina crossed her arms over her chest.

She wore yoga pants and a purple sweatshirt and Emma had never seen her so casual before.

She looked so young.

Her hair was longer and pulled back in a braid.

Her skin clear of make up.

Her eyes tired.

She looked so tired.

Regina sighed, "I don't know what you want, Emma. Why did you come back?"

"My family," Emma said, quietly.

"Fuck that, you don't leave your family for a year, Emma." Regina said, a fire in her hushed voice.

Emma flinched.

She looked down at her hands, wanting to find the words to make it all better.

She wanted to take the pain from her son.

She wanted to take the exhaustion from his mother.

She wanted to just make it all better.

Like she was.

Wasn't she?

All better, voids mended and fixed and she could now deal with these things.

With family.

And with love.

She could say it aloud.

"Regina," Emma looked back at the woman, reaching out, and the magic that flowed through the two women was nearly orgasmic but she tried to focus. "I want to make it better."

"I gave you a chance to make it better. You choose to ignore that, Miss Swan."

Regina's heart had been unfrozen by her family, by their love, so how was it so easy that it would freeze over once Emma reached for her?

"I had to make myself better." Emma insisted, "I had to so that I would be better for them - for you."

There were tears in their eyes.

Dripping onto cheeks.

Emma cried, voice low but desperate, "I love you, Regina."

It hit Regina in the chest like a bullet.

Shattering her.

And without a thought she replied, "And I loved you."

It was cold and Winter was settling into Regina's bones again at Emma's confession.

It was time for her to let go of things she once had.

* * *

Chapter 7: Youth

* * *

Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silouhette  
A lifeless face that you'll soon forget  
My eyes are damp from the words you left  
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest  
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest

And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one  
'Cause most of us are bitter over someone  
Setting fire to our insides for fun  
To distract our hearts from ever missing them  
But I'm forever missing him

And you caused it

* * *

That's the funny thing about True Love.

You'll always be in love.

There will never be no past tense.

At least none that would ever be true.

But it didn't mean that you gave in that easy.

Sometimes being in love doesn't fix things.

Sometimes love can't put out the fire that was lit somewhere deep within your lungs and heart and behind your ribs.

So, it takes time.

* * *

Regina's heart was mended by those who stayed. They threaded needles with bright, colorful threads and sewed the gaping holes in her heart together.

Patchwork.

But it was mended.

She was stronger, better able to attend to matters better, and Regina loved.

Oh boy, did Regina know how to love now.

But that didn't mean that her chest still wasn't pulled open or that her heart wasn't sensitive - because they were.

She was just as fragile, if not more, than she had been the day that Emma left her sleeping lover and newborn daughter in a warm bed in the winter time.

Regina could pinpoint when things went wrong (from the very beginning), when the fires were set.

And they still raged inside her chest.

* * *

"Loved?"

"Yes, dear, I loved you."

"Loved, Regina?"

"Yes… loved."

* * *

Emma slept on the couch that night.

Henry offered her lunch and dinner while Regina hid upstairs in their bedroom with Anastasia.

* * *

"Can I stay here…please?" Emma asked in a soft voice, bundled up in her coat and the black scarf that she stole from Regina.

It smelt like her.

Black currants, vanilla, and a hint of green apple.

Charming looked at his daughter - really looked - noticing the dark circles under her eyes and how her blonde curls just hung there.

"Snow," Charming yelled behind him, getting his wife's attention.

Evie in her arms, Snow came to the door before she paused.

Scowling.

"Emma," she whispered, settling the toddler down on the floor to toddle off back to her green dollie.

She was angry at her daughter - furious even.

But she was a mother and she hadn't seen her daughter and she had thought the very worse happened and she couldn't help herself when she pulled Emma into her arms and cried.

Emma held close to the woman.

Sobs escaping her chest.

"I'm so sorry," words that were only words without actions.

But she was, you know?

Sorry.

She needed to leave.

She needed to make herself better.

But she was so, so very sorry to have to pay the price that it cost her.

* * *

Regina met with Emma twice in January for hot chocolate to discuss the children.

She wasn't ready.

She couldn't force herself to be ready.

* * *

Henry let Emma walk him to school every Wednesday and Friday mornings after a few weeks.

They didn't talk at first.

Only a little bit about new comics.

Later, though, he began to tell her how she made him feel.

What she missed.

And about the pain she caused his mom.

* * *

Regina didn't want to deny Emma from seeing her daughter - but it was far too easy to want to keep the woman out of her home.

Emma saw the toddler for the first time since the peak of her toddling behind Henry the first day she came back to Storybrooke at Granny's.

It was Sunday and, after nearly two months, Emma took up her parents offer to have brunch with the family. Emma had started to see Archie and started to piece things back together little by little.

Except Emma didn't understand the true meaning of family until tables where pushed together and people took seats.

Leaving three.

Regina had been late as Henry held the door open for them when they walked into the diner.

Her heart stopped when she saw Emma.

She sucked in breath.

"Oh hey, Ma," Henry said, surprised. "You finally came."

So Emma watched as he took a seat next to Charming and set down the backpack in the empty seat next to him making Regina take the seat next to Emma.

She settled the dark haired little girl in her lap and Emma noticed how alike they looked - nearly forgetting - and wondered if their magic had something to do with that, with the toddler not looking like August in any way or shape.

"Emma," Regina said, calming, in greeting.

"She looks like you," Emma said, blurted out in a rush of words.

It was the first true smile she received from Regina.

"Thank you," Regina said, meeting Emma's eyes. "She has your personality though, through and through."

Emma mirrored her smile, "I don't know if that's a good thing."

Regina shook her head, "Oh, it is, dear, its all the good parts."

And that's when her daughter turned to look at her, eyes open and wide causing the blonde to intake air, and Emma was reminded of what really mattered in the universe.

* * *

That night when the children were put to bed, Emma showed up at the front door.

Words flew out of her mouth and Regina caught them in her chest and mouths suddenly pressed against each others.

Buttons flew off Emma's shirt when Regina ripped it open and Emma hiked up Regina's dress, sliding panties to the side, and moans were released when Emma pushed fingers into Regina's slick heat.

Oh how good it felt to be surrounded by the one you love.

How fucking good it is - because despite everything, Emma could feel the magic deep inside Regina and feel everything about Regina and she felt so much fucking love.

When it was all done, slick bodies pressed against the cold door, weight settled in their chests.

"We started this way and look where it lead us, Emma," Regina whispered into her ear, yanking her hair harder. "I**refuse** to start it again like that. Come back when you are done acting like an immature child."

* * *

Spring would be kinder, Emma was sure.

* * *

They were the lucky ones.

They were still bleeding and their feelings were there, tenfold, and the fire that burnt inside Regina and Emma started to change to something more bearable.

The women were capable of loving.

And worthy to be loved.

But bitterness is an evil disease and fires still were dangerous and neither women knew how to make it better.

Emma's bed was empty.

Regina's bed held a sleeping toddler and a son who still had a fear that his parent would leave in the middle of the night.

And days were filled with things that distracted their hearts.

Distracted them from the lacking.

The lack of the other person.

The lack of their presence.

Emma's obnoxious laughter and Regina's overindulgence.

And the lack of their love right there.

But they were the lucky ones, because they still had love.

Emma came back two weeks later.

An apple turnover, Regina's favorite, in her hand and words on her lips.

Messy, raw words - but honest ones.

And as she knocked on the door, she knew how to do this again.

How to do it better.

How to do it right.

* * *

True love is a funny thing.

You'll always be in love.

But it didn't mean that you gave in that easy.

No, sometimes you simply can't fix everything with love.


End file.
